


It's Not Easy Being Dean

by MaraLynnCade



Series: A Rose Grows [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha/Omega, Depression, M/M, hurt/ comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-20 23:18:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17031825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaraLynnCade/pseuds/MaraLynnCade
Summary: Dean has just given birth to their first child. Being an omega isn't easy. Neither is being an ommie.





	It's Not Easy Being Dean

**Author's Note:**

> A time stamp story continuing the story line of my other piece, "A Rose by Any Other Name"

"Whhaaaah! Whaaah!"

Exhausted in both body and spirit, Dean woke to the summons. Automatically he checked the time. Four twenty fucking three o'clock! Shit! He had laid down less than thirty minutes ago. What the fuc....

"Whhaaah!" The cries grew louder, more strident. Glancing quickly in Sammy's direction and mindful of Bobby down the hall, Dean forced himself to get up and out of bed. There was no reason everyone should be rousted out of a good night's sleep. The baby was his responsibility. 

Still limping from the beating he'd taken, Dean slipped into the nursery as quickly and quietly as possible. The baby had no such consideration. Red in the face, fists balled up and flailing, legs drawn up to her round little tummy, she screamed her lungs out, telling the world how miserable her life was. Dean approached the crib with dread.

"Baby Girl," He sighed looking down at his daughter, "What's is your problem?" With gentle hands (his right now encased in a soft cast) Dean reached down to lift the squalling infant. He brought her up to cuddle against his shoulder. Her next scream was directly into his ear. Dean cringed at the volume. This incessant crying was all too familiar and too frequent of late. This was the fifth night in a row, his six week old daughter had awakened loud and ornery. Multiple times. Every damn night. Never sleeping more than an hour. Often much less. 

Parenthood wasn't supposed to be like this, was it? Dean had no fucking idea what was wrong with his baby or how to fix it. All he wanted was for her to stop crying. He needed sleep. Hell, they both did. Desperate to soothe her, Dean started through the usual causes. Diaper, dry. Forehead, cool but not cold. He walked a few steps, automatically falling into the swaying rhythm that sometimes settled her.

Rose only wailed louder. Dean choked back his own sob as he felt his milk let down. His t-shirt was soon soaked by his flowing nipples. "You can't be hungry, can you?" The baby cried again. Dean shuffled to the antique wooden rocker that Bobby had hauled down from his attic. He collapsed into the chair, his exhaustion getting the better of him. He lifted his shirt to expose his swollen, reddened nipples. Both were chafed and sore. Resigned, desperate to soothe his daughter Dean moved the baby into position. Rose stiffened her whole body in his arms, crying louder and harder than ever as she determinedly rejected the offered breast.

"What do you want?" Dean hissed in desperation and exhaustion. "I don't know what you need." Tears seeped from his own sunken dark circled eyes. Dean settled the crying baby against his thighs, away from his abused ears. His head dropped back against the carved backrest. He kept both hands on the squalling infant as he began a slow deliberate rocking pattern. The motion did nothing to soothe the baby. But Dean was out of options and energy. He had tried every trick he knew during this long, endless night and nothing had worked. Now he was giving in to what the whole world knew- he was never meant to be an Omega. He was never meant to be anyone's ommie. God or Fate or Mother Nature or whoever the hell controlled such things had made one hell of a huge mistake entrusting this precious little life into his care. 

Milk flowing to soak his tee shirt, body chilled by the night air, Dean sat and rocked the wailing child on his lap as misery swamped him. He was too tired to fight anymore. In the morning, he would confess his inadequacies to Sam. Somehow he would have to convince Sam that he wasn't...

The nursery door opened. A tall, well muscled body slipped into the room. The sobbing infant pinpointed Rose and Dean's location in the dark room. Eyesight adjusting to the darkness, Sam went down on one knee beside the rocker. One large hand came up to cup the baby's head, the other to dry the trail of tears from Dean's cheeks. Sam leaned in, resting his forehead against Dean's temple. 

"Hey, you okay?" Sam whispered, planting a kiss on the damp cheek.

Dean snorted, belatedly he looked at the glowing light on the baby monitor. Shit, he was such a fuck up that he'd forgotten to turn the damn thing off. "Sorry!" He stammered, "I tried not to wake you. Forgot to shut the monitor off." The tears were flowing again, a sob caught in Dean's throat as his head rolled feebly from side to side. "I'm such a screw up."

"You are no such thing." Sam corrected firmly. His hand slipped down to grip Dean's chin. He lifted the weary head. Sam placed a kiss on the slack mouth. Dean was so tired he was half asleep in the rocking chair despite the crying baby on his lap. "You're exhausted. You need sleep." Sam kissed the hooded eyes closed. "Let me take Rose."

"You have classes tomorrow." Dean protested automatically, his eyes were too heavy to open but his hands kept their position securing their daughter's safety. "You need a good night's sleep."

"I'm fine." Sam countered, easing the protesting little one from Dean's grasp. He brought the small body up to his broad shoulder. Rose, exhausted by her own meltdown, snuffled against his neck for a few minutes then quieted to hiccups. Sam cradled her with one large hand, flexing two fingers to pat her back. He started a gentle swaying motion as he rose to his feet. Three strides had him back at the crib. He craned his neck to check her status. Eyes closed, damp lashes clumped against the delicate cheeks, the rosebud mouth suckled instinctively. Sam eased the sleeping infant down to the mattress with all the caution of handling a live bomb. He propped her on her side, using bolsters of rolled receiving blankets to maintain her position. Cautiously Sam withdrew his hands. He paused, waiting to be sure the transfer had been successful. Rose shifted minutely, dropping into a deeper sleep as he watched. Sam smiled down at their little angel before turning to deal with Dean.

What Sam could see of his lifemate in the nursery's dim light was a sorry sight that brought a sad, loving smile to his lips. Dean was sprawled in the wooden chair. His head drooped at any uncomfortable angle, his shirt was shodden, his limbs splayed out awkwardly. Sam was tempted to leave him to grab what rest he could manage but he knew that Dean would suffer the kinks when he woke. Gently Sam shook his shoulder. Dean mumbled something incoherent and batted haphazardly at his hand.

Sam tried again. "Leave me alone." Dean muttered, barely intelligible. "I'm good."

Sam wasn't having any of that self sacrificing shit. It was his responsibility and honor to care for Dean. He'd been too wrapped up in his own head with midterm exams and a term paper the last few days to notice. That was on him. But parenthood wasn't meant to be a solo act. Hell, Dean was still recovering from the trauma of childbirth and Gordon's assault. Sam chastised himself for his lack of attentiveness. Dean always pushed himself too hard, tried to bear the burden to spare his loved ones. Sam knew that from childhood. Dean protected those he loved regardless of the cost to himself.

Sam bent to his task. Gently he slipped one arm behind Dean's back, the other went under, to gather the spread legs over Sam's arm. He rose, lifting Dean from the chair. Dean muttered a protest but snuggled into his arms, his head rolling to rest on the broad shoulder. Sam hushed him as he carried him from the nursery. It was a short journey to their bedroom. He eased Dean down to the mattress with the same tenderness that he had used with their baby. Dean barely stirred. As he stood, Sam realized his chest was sticky from breast milk. It was a decidedly uncomfortable sensation. 

Sam hurried into the bath. A quick wash solved his discomfort. Gathering what he needed he went back to tend to Dean. He flipped on the bedside light. Dean slept on, proof of his exhaustion, as he stripped off the milk soaked tee. A warm soapy washcloth cleaned the hairless chest. Sam dried him, wincing as he took in the raw state of Dean's nipples. Rowena had given Dean something to condition his breasts for the demands of nursing. Sam fumbled through the assortment of bottles on Dean's nightstand. He opted against any lotion with perfumes or antibiotics, he had to keep in mind that went in or on Dean's body went into the baby. A squat jar of something white and creamy was his last option, lanolin. The directions said it was intended for nursing mothers and omegas. Sam unscrewed the lid. He shook his head when he discovered it was unused. No doubt Dean's tough guy attitude at work. Or maybe it was just his exhaustion. Sam stared down at his mate. He had no right to be annoyed with Dean's inattentiveness to his care when he was equally responsible. Gently Sam coated each nipple. He wiped his hands and eased a fresh tee shirt over Dean's head. He knew that his omega was self conscious about his enlarged paps and fuller breasts. Sam hadn't been able to convince him how sexy the changes were. Yet.

Pulling the covers over his sleeping mate, Sam flicked off the light. He rounded the bed to take his place. Unconsciously, Dean rolled into his arms, cuddling tight to his side. Sam settled Dean's head comfortably upon his chest, he ran his fingers lightly over the lax features. Dean slept on, recharging his resources. Sam smiled into the darkness. He would keep watch. He would answer Rose's next summons. They would get through the trials of a colicky baby together. This too would pass.


End file.
